Thursday, July 15, 2010

Instead of enlightening you regarding my latest travels abroad, I instead would like to take a moment to eulogize the best cat this side of the Mississippi. And probably the other side too. Of this, I am quite certain.

Bentley came to us as a stray in Solon, Ohio, summer of '93. My earliest memory was of him was hiding in the coat closet by the front door for what seemed like days. He dared not traverse out except to hiss and swipe. Clint and I were on a peace keeping mission that included poking broomsticks into the dark abyss, violently slapping the floor and pleading with him to come out and play with us, dagnabit.

Cats are generally not very interactive. They don't require much upkeep, are completely self sufficient and possess little people skills. However, Bentley was more like having a dog with sass. He liked to be around the action, unless the action happened to be putting him in baby clothes with bonnets and strapping him in for carriage rides in the front yard.

Or just this...

Bentley was also a great companion to my mom throughout the years which is why losing him was like losing the last living link to her. I realize animals don't have souls (our black lab Ramsey was the exception), but who is to say that the Lord would not lovingly humor us, knowing how much of a connection humans and animals can have, and allow us to reunite? It's not gospel, but one can dream.

Mainly, I will miss being able to have conversations with him. This usually took place in the early morning when he was most talkative and I'd be prepping my coffee. Or when I would come home from work and would ask him if he "found employment" that day or quite simply, "What did you do today, Binny Boop?" ... "Oh, you slept all day long on the red rug only to get up to go poo on the carpet downstairs a mere foot from your potty box?" ... "Typical". And so it went, our lives were intertwined.